


The Moment You Fell In Love

by renaissance



Series: #jbweek [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-18 23:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2365751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renaissance/pseuds/renaissance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You've never been able to tolerate a romantic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Moment You Fell In Love

**Author's Note:**

> And so begins the Jaime & Brienne Appreciation Week! I'm writing a ficlet for each day, and this is the first of them. The prompt for Day 1 was "Moment you fell in love..." so I've done a very AU reworking of the scene that made me a fully-fledged JB shipper. (Expect a lot of AUs in this series. Sorry. I couldn't contain myself to just one.) Hopefully you'll be able to tell which scene it is!

Some people believe in soulmates, in love at first sight. They think you can just catch someone’s eye and be instantly smitten—but that’s the sort of crap that makes pathetic singles write songs like “You’re Beautiful”—and you’ve never been one of those people. You know there’s no switch you can flick, no button you can press, no One Moment that changes everything. It’s a load of bullshit, and you’ve never been able to tolerate a romantic.

That’s why, when Brienne Tarth puts up her hand in class to contribute something _oh so insightful_ to the discussion of courtly love tropes in The Great Gatsby, you feel like puking. It’s the usual—some shit about Gatsby’s ideation of Daisy—you didn’t really pay much attention to the book—but it’s the _conviction_ in her tone that really gets to you, the way she talks about romance like she’d intimately acquainted with the subject matter. What would an ugly girl like her know, anyway?

You put up your hand.

“Mrs. Stark, I don’t think this is meant to reflect courtly love at all,” you say.

Mrs. Stark gives you a Look, because she _knows_ that Daddy’s on the P &C, and she can’t say shit without the chance that you’ll dob her in. “What’s your view, then, Jaime?” she asks.

“I think he’s just creepy,” you say. “Gatsby is. Sure, maybe _he_ thinks he’s doing something noble, but Fitzgerald doesn’t want us to think that. It’s a warning against obsessive love.”

“How do you know what Fitzgerald wants you to think?” Brienne pipes up. Her face is red, like you’ve personally offended her—which is just stupid, because this is nowhere _near_ as bad as the time you called her a munter in front of Hyle Hunt and his mates.

“I don’t,” you say, “but this is English class. We’re meant to play fast-and-loose with authorial intention.”

“That’s quite enough, Jaime,” Mrs. Stark says. She’s just jealous because you know bigger words than she does, probably.

Fortunately, Brienne ignores the teacher—which is a first. “There are enough parallels with the mediaeval idea of courtly love that we can extrapolate that they’re intentional.”

“Yeah, but we’ll never really know,” you say. You don’t _really_ care this much about courtly love in The Great Gatsby—but there’s never been anything half so much as arguing with Brienne. “I maintain that he’s trying to make a point about Gatsby’s obsessive nature.”

“It’s a classic extension of the courtly love trope—”

“Maybe he’s trying to say that courtly love is a bad thing—”

“I’d argue that he’s not commenting on it—”

“—but you have to agree that—”

“—he uses it as a device to explore romance, sure—”

“—and that’s the overarching theme—”

You try to sigh dramatically, but it comes out a bit like a growl. “God, not only an idiot, but a stubborn idiot.”

Brienne pales. “You’re the stubborn one!”

You laugh. “I think you’ll find that—”

And that’s how you end up in detention.

It’s more talk-about-your-feelings than detention, and you’ve got that new teacher Mr. Frey supervising you. He makes you and Brienne sit down and face each other, and take turns to say what it is about the other that makes you so annoyed.

Brienne takes it very seriously.

“I felt embarrassed that he made my ideas seem invalid in front of the whole class,” she says.

“Jaime?” Mr. Frey prompts.

“I felt _pissed off_ that she kept contradicting me,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Can I go now?”

Mr. Frey sighs. “I think we still have a few more issues to work through here. Brienne, how does it make you feel when Jaime says that you annoyed him?”

“Pissed off,” you correct.

“I feel… embarrassed,” Brienne says again. “I feel like I should never have spoken out in class.”

“But if you didn’t speak out, then I’d never know the precise depths of your stupidity!” you say.

Brienne pulls an anguished face. “I’m not _stupid_ ,” she says. “ _You’re_ the stubborn one.”

“I’m not stubborn!” you protest. “I’m _right_.”

“You’re an _arsehole_ , Jaime Lannister,” she says, and you’re a little bit shocked that she’s “swearing” in front of a teacher, but you lean forward and grin like it’s what you expected her to say.

“I may _be_ an arsehole,” you agree, “but at least I don’t have a _face_ like one.”

“That’s it,” Mr. Frey says, standing up, “I’m getting Mrs. Stark.”

Leaving them alone with each other is probably the worst decision he’ll ever make.

“You are _insufferable_ ,” Brienne says, as soon as Frey’s out of earshot. “I’m _sick_ of boys making fun of my looks.”

“Sorry,” you say, “do you want something more original?”

“I want you to stop bothering me,” she says.

“But it’s _so_ much fun to—”

And before you can finish your sentence, she leans across the desk and shoves her hand across your mouth. “Shut _up_!”

Let it never be said that you don’t give as good as you get. You grip her arm, trying to prise her away from your face, but she’s nothing if not strong, so you put a bit more force into it, tilting the desk up with your knee. She resists, so you try another tactic—you pull yourself onto the table and climb towards her. She doesn’t expect _that_ , and you can see it in the ways her eyes widen—and, shit, she has _really nice eyes_.

Shaking the thought, you push her backwards until her chair topples, and you’re straddling her on the floor. Her free hand yanks at your tie, and you try to swat it away, so she rolls to the side so that she’s on top of you now. You trash out with your legs, kicking at hers, and she lapses for long enough that you can push her hand away from your face and grab at her arms. She hits you, and you roll again, knocking against a desk—a chair comes clattering down on top of you, but she seems to brush it off your back like it’s as light as air.

You’re breathing heavily as you reach blindly for her face—you don’t want to get a reputation for violence against women, but she’s tough enough that you don’t think anyone will notice—she’s fast, though, and she swipes your hand away effortlessly. She’s out of breath too, but not as much as you. You kick at her, you reach forward, and she rolls again, so she’s on top, and you get this kind of buzz, like this isn’t just about fighting anymore, and—

“I cannot _believe_ this!” Mrs. Stark shouts. “Stop this _immediately_!”

So, you stop, because you don’t want to get in any more trouble than you already are. Brienne stops too, and her eyes are all wide again, like she can’t believe what she’s done.

“Get _up_! Both of you! I am taking you both to the Principal’s office, and I will be recommending _immediate_ suspension!” She sounds so _disappointed_.

You stand, and you follow her, and Brienne looks like she’s on the verge of tears, so when Mrs. Stark isn’t looking, you flash her a grin.

She smiles back, tentatively.

Suddenly, all of that romantic bullshit doesn’t seem half so stupid.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment C:


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